


look at the stars

by riahk



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cold Weather, Constellations, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, Post-Canon, Stargazing, and other scandalous shows of affection, incorporating some astrology/astronomy into Fodlan lore, post azure moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahk/pseuds/riahk
Summary: Bernadetta faces her first winter as Duchess Fraldarius. Felix wants to show her that winter doesn’t have to be all gloom all the time. Featuring warm baths, frigid stargazing and a little bit of Fódlan myth-weaving.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Felix Rarepair Week 2021





	look at the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! For Felix Rarepair Week, I’m trying my hand at writing Felibern! I’m excited to give this cute pairing some love. Inspired by their AM ending card as well as the event’s day 2 prompt ‘Snow’ (though it also takes a bit from the day 6 prompt ‘Stories’). The ending card, for reference:
> 
> "After the war, Felix inherited the title of Duke Fraldarius from his late father, Rodrigue. He married Bernadetta, who abandoned claim to House Varley in order to start a life with him. After they had finished restoring Fraldarius territory, Felix traveled across Fódlan as the king's right hand. While he was away, Bernadetta handled local affairs while holed up in her room in the castle. The frigid air of northern Faerghus caused her to hide away even more than usual, but whenever her beloved husband returned, she would rush out to greet him."
> 
> Enjoy!

It was late when Felix finally rode through the gates of Castle Fraldarius. The crescent moon hung low to the horizon like a thin silver sickle, and the fathomless, deep winter sky flickered with stars unburdened by clouds. Fresh snow blanketed the ground in opposing white, settling quietly and miraculously undisturbed by any harsh winds. To an outsider, the bone-chilling air and eerie quiet would likely be seen as uninviting, but Felix knew that as far as long, frigid nights of the Guardian Moon went, this one was virtually perfect.

Not that he was paying much attention to the weather as his horse galloped over the obscured path to the stables, littering hoofprints over the new layer of frost, warm breath spilling like haze in their wake. A bell rang clear through the yard, alerting the house staff that the duke had finally returned. Felix shook his head as he slowed to a stop, embarrassed to be disturbing so many attendants at such an hour. They’d expected him back earlier; _he’d_ expected to be back earlier. But, well—

“Welcome home, sir!” the chipper voice of the young stablehand greeted him as Felix eased out of the saddle, giving his steed an affectionate pat before handing off the reins. “No trouble on the road, I hope?”

Felix blinked, clearing his throat. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he replied. “Only a flurry in the afternoon that delayed my departure by several hours.” He scanned the tranquil scene as they stepped around the perimeter of the building. “Not that you would know it, with how calm it is here.” Perfect for a stroll, he thought, even as his muscles began to settle into cool stillness and his breath continued to come out in foggy puffs. Again he steered himself back on task, eyes fluttering over the illuminated windows of the castle as he made for a snow-dusted stone stairway leading up to great oak doors.

With impeccable timing, the entryway swung slowly open just as Felix reached the top of the steps, flinching as his night-adjusted vision was suddenly flooded with the bright light of the foyer. Inviting heat wafted off the torches lining the walls as he slipped inside, shutting away the cold exterior with a dull thud. “Good evening, Your Grace,” the head housekeeper said as a maid appeared at Felix’s side to shrug off his outer layers one by one.

He returned the address and mumbled thanks as he slipped out of his cloak, making his way into the center of the hall. With pleasantries aside, there was only one thing on his mind. “Is Bernadetta well?” he asked, noting the way the women giggled at the mention of his wife, at how predictable his question was. Felix paid them no mind, waiting patiently for an answer.

“She took all her meals in her chambers today, but that is nothing new,” the housekeeper informed him. Still, there was concern in his voice, and Felix needed only to fix him with a displeased stare to weed out more information. “It’s been quite cold, as it normally is this time of year, and I fear the duchess still hasn’t acclimated to it, Your Grace. She’s asked us to improve the heating situation three times today.” Felix’s frown deepened as the report continued. “We may want to fetch a—”

A loud creaking and the quick patter of boots on stone interrupted their discussion, and Felix searched for the source of the noise with a knowing smile. It only grew wider as his gaze followed one of the matching staircases curved along the round edges of the tall room. He locked eyes with Bernadetta as she emerged onto the landing from the labyrinthine halls of the castle. “Felix!” she exclaimed happily, descending the steps at an impressive pace considering the numerous furs heaped on her shoulders.

She didn’t get too far before Felix met her in a sprint himself, curling his arms around her body as well he could with the bulky layers between them. “Hey,” he breathed, face leaning in toward hers, the presence of several watchful eyes keeping him from getting any more enthusiastic in his greeting. “I thought for sure you’d be asleep,” he added, already feeling warmer just looking at her.

“You said you’d be back tonight,” Bernadetta said with a playful smile. “And I know how stubborn you are about keeping your schedules.”

Felix rolled his eyes; he’d never expected to be the organized type, obsessed with keeping on task, but the endless stream of errands and responsibilities that piled up after the war made it a necessity. Bernadetta had been instrumental in helping him adjust to the routine, proving incredibly competent in the ongoing restoration. Still, there was a part of him that resisted getting too comfortable. “It certainly helps knowing who I’m coming back to,” he replied. “Thank you for waiting.”

Footsteps followed them up the stairs. “We’ll draw a bath, of course,” the housekeeper announced, looking back and forth between the two. “Will the duchess be joining you tonight?”

Bernadetta blushed, still not used to the title, but one glance at Felix and their decision was obvious. “She’d be happy to.”

—

There was nothing quite like sinking into a steamy, lavender-scented tub to make Felix realize just how road-worn he was, how soothing it felt to soak his tense muscles after a day of riding. Bernadetta's shoulders pressing against his chest and her violet hair brushing his collarbone certainly helped. "I'm glad to have an opportunity to try out these bath salts from Enbarr," she said, sliding her legs forward as she sank deeper into the water. "Hmm, I bet the weather is nice down there right now," she sighed, closing her eyes dreamily.

"I'm sure it is," Felix mumbled, remembering the housekeeper's earlier concerns. He ran his fingers gently through Bernadetta's hair, admiring the way it stuck to her slick neck, and without thinking twice he planted a kiss just below her ear. "What about here? Were the nights all this calm while I was in Fhirdiad?"

Bernadetta shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I've barely left my room," she replied. So that was one report confirmed. Felix rested his chin in the crook of her neck, glad she couldn't see the worry on his face. "It's calm tonight?"

He resisted the urge to groan, swallowed instead. "I was gone two weeks and you barely left your room," he repeated back incredulously. "Was something the matter? Were you not feeling well?" Was he laying it on too thick? Felix just wanted to understand, to coax Bernadetta into confiding in him. So he could work to make her situation better.

"No," she began, splashing water idly. "I was busy handling affairs while you were assisting the king." Her chin dipped below the surface for a moment, leisurely blowing bubbles. "Plus I recently picked up the most fascinating book…"

Felix hummed, struggling to focus with Bernadetta's meandering, sleepy drawl playing like a lullaby in his ears. Her casual excitement over new reading material was almost too charming, the relaxed slouch of her back too inviting. It had been two weeks since he'd last seen her. "You'll have to regale me with the plot sometime," he said. Then, switching up his approach, he squeezed her arm gently. "Bernadetta. Turn around, would you?"

Her ears perked up and she rolled over in the bath, her hands pressing into the bottom of the tub as she arched her back up, smiling curiously at him. "What is it?" she asked, her cheeks damp and her face flushed a soft pink from the warm fog. Felix couldn't hold back anymore: he leaned closer and planted his lips gently on hers, feeling her shyly kiss him back. "Oh," Bernadetta breathed as he pulled away, watching her process the gesture. The way she held his hand under the water assured him that it was perfectly welcome.

"You know you can tell me if anything is bothering you, right?" he tried, fixing her with an attentive stare.

She shifted her gaze warily. "Yes."

"Hm," Felix interjected, continuing to watch her intently, hoping to wear her down just a smidge more. Sometimes she merely needed a small push.

So what she said next surprised him. "But I expect the same from you, you know," she retorted, meeting his eyes again with a renewed confidence.

Damn. She was getting better at turning the tables on him. "Ah. You got me there." He liked it, actually.

Bernadetta waggled her brows at him, still low to the surface, furtive and curious like a sea nymph. "So what is it?"

He sank back until his mouth was nearly submerged. "I was informed that you've been having trouble adjusting to the cold," he explained, head bobbing back and forth as he shot more accusing glances at her. It was a relief to get the concern off his chest, no matter how briefly it had been settled there.

Her body swayed restlessly, looking defeated. “No point in denying it, I suppose.” Then, after a pause: “Wait, did someone tell you about—”

“Someone told me about the heating requests, yes,” Felix confirmed.

A sigh escaped her lips and spread stray bubbles across the water. “They looked at me like I'd grown a second head,” she said, pulling her knees into her chest, curling up into a defensive ball. “I suppose it makes sense; they're used to it. You're used to it.” She inhaled again, looking up at him pleadingly. “It's just so cold here, Felix. I don’t know what else to say.”

“That's no reason to stay holed up in your room,” he chided, but it was not for lack of understanding her position. He remembered the long winters of his childhood, how lonely it could get. But he also recalled how excited the staff appeared when they saw him, or his father or Glenn, happy to find them out and about in spite of the cold weather. Northern Faerghus was harsh and it was important not to let its gloom consume you, to give in to the temptation of seclusion. For a former shut-in (hell, the "former" was sounding more like a misnomer these days), he imagined that was quite difficult. “When I was younger, we'd use the weather to enhance our training. Run laps around the castle yard to warm ourselves up.”

She rolled her eyes, as he’d expected she would. While not completely inactive, they both knew Bernadetta was not as enthused as Felix by strenuous activity. At least there was a sense of humor evident in her tone. “This explains so much,” she replied sarcastically, flatly.

At least he had her attention, now, and he was ready to give some more reasonable solutions. “I can fetch a healer, or a doctor,” he began. “Supposedly there are herbs you can take to help your body retain heat better, or ones that improve circulation.” He reached a hand out to brush hair from her eyes, noting the anxiety pooling there. “Or simply to enhance your mood and combat the dips in energy you might be experiencing.”

“No, no, we can't do that,” she protested, embarrassed. “What if word gets out that I need medicine just to get myself out of bed, to deal with something that's second nature to the locals?” There were no windows in the bathroom, so instead her gaze fell to the thick oak door, the closest form of escape. “I'm already a foreigner here.” Felix wanted to point out that they're unified now, that borders and her place of birth didn't matter anymore. “We're leaders, Fe. I can't have them thinking I'm weak, that I don't belong here.”

Felix winced at her choice of words, hurt by the way she used 'weak' like it was the worst possible thing she could be. Especially since he was acutely aware he’d used it to describe her in the past. The sentiment — that only the strong survive, that to ask for help is to betray that natural law — was so deeply rooted in Faerghus’ culture, and she’d grasped it far too well, despite Felix's hopes to change the mindset. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “What will they think of me?”

He considered the way Fraldarius had graciously welcomed her in the summer, how the citizenry had celebrated their union. How her smiling face was appreciated and embraced, and her dedication to their responsibilities even more so. The people adored her, he thought. He certainly did. He straightened to a seat and nudged her gently back around, sidling up behind her and drawing circles over her shoulder blades, pressing his fingertips firmly into her muscles. It was strange; he was the one who'd been riding all day, but Bernadetta was nearly as stiff, her neck riddled with knots. This had clearly been weighing on her. “Why does it matter what they think?”

Bernadetta leaned into his touch, humming with delight. “I suppose it doesn't,” she relented, his hands on her like an immediate remedy to her malaise. “Everyone's been so kind to me ever since I arrived, anyway. I'm being paranoid again, aren't I?”

He chuckled. “A little.”

Her hands reached back, resting atop his knuckles. “Here, let me,” she insisted, sliding his grip away and swiveling to face him, her eyes alight. “You're the one who's been on the road for so long.” She maneuvered him around, wasting no time massaging his scalp, moving downward and playfully tugging his earlobes before working into the base of his skull. Felix sighed involuntarily at the force; Bernadetta may not have been keeping up with her training like she had in the war, but she still had the dexterity and graceful hands of an archer.

“But really, what's wrong with me staying in my room when it's so frigid out?” she asked idly. “It's not like there's anything particularly exciting to see. Just snow, snow, snow, for miles.”

His eyes widened at the statement, a gut reaction overtaking him. “‘Just’ snow? What?” Immediately he remembered how beautiful it was out tonight, and how Bernadetta hadn’t even been aware of the fortunate weather. She'd latched onto the detriments of winter without enjoying any of the positives. He spoke sharply, reactively: “We should finish up.”

She stilled her fingers. “Huh? But we're getting so comfy.”

Felix’s mind was already set on the next thing, catapulting him forward. “The water's getting cold,” he said, matter-of-factly. Then, lifting his dripping hands out of the water: “And my fingers are beginning to wrinkle.”

Bernadetta whined, and he assumed she was mirroring the gesture. “Aw, shoot, mine are getting pruney too.”

“And I have an idea of how to help you, right now, without calling a doctor,” Felix added.

“Uh, really?”

He was enthusiastic now, rising to a stand and stepping out from the tub. He strode across the stone and picked up one of the fluffy robes hanging from the elegantly-carved rack. He turned back to Bernadetta, still sitting confused in the tub as he slipped into the soft fabric. “Yes, really.” He unhooked the remaining garment, holding it out to her. “Come on. Let's go.”

It was only getting later, and Bernadetta was looking at him like he’d gone mad. But the idea was already in his head and he wasn’t about to give up on it, suddenly hellbent on improving her opinion of Faerghus winters. He was going to show her what she’d been missing, dammit.

—

Felix was well aware of Bernadetta’s reluctance to his hastily hatched plan, but that didn’t stop him from sprinting up the east tower steps, stopping every so often to urge her slow feet upward. “We’re almost there,” he called down, a breathy groan echoing back up to his ears. She was taking her time, but she was still here, which was a relief; if she’d truly been that against it, she would be hiding in their bedroom right now.

Her head bobbed into view as she rounded the curve, lifting up the long, heavy folds of her cloak in one hand as she walked. The other carefully waved around a torch. “I really hope this is worth it,” she said, her breath visible in the frigid air.

“Just think of it as training,” Felix started. “And a good way to keep yourself warm.”

The look she flashed him was terrifying, even for Felix and his usual fearlessness. “The next time I’m in the archery range,” she huffed. “ _You_ are going to be the target, you hear me?” Her eyes fell behind him, lighting up as she spotted the door leading out onto flat stone. “Oh, thank the goddess,” she sighed, gaining a final burst of energy and running past him.

He followed her, clearing the stone archway and stepping out onto the parapet, watching her run her gloved hands along the snow-dusted railing and peering out into the great field of white. Snow-covered mountains loomed in the distance, dark and sharp and breathtaking. Felix lit the braziers hanging along the path as he walked, catching a glimpse of the view from the opposite side. Past the other rising structures of the castle, another stretch of snow came to a sudden dark stop as the land met the sea, close enough to observe the occasional flash of a wave breaking.

“No wind,” Bernadetta muttered, repeating what Felix had told her. “That’s nice, actually,” she admitted as he settled next to her, their shoulders bumping together. The torches rested in front of them, an extra source of heat that licked their cool faces. “What exactly am I supposed to be looking at, here?”

He leaned an elbow onto the stone, resting his face in his hand as he turned to face her, brows raised. “Up,” he said, his other hand nudging her chin skyward. His gaze stayed trained on her for a moment, enjoying the awe that washed over her face as her lips parted slightly, mesmerized.

“Oh,” she breathed, and Felix stared reverently, first at Bernadetta and then at the stars speckled across the heavens. They stretched across the vast expanse of space, twinkling in iridescent hues of cool white and warm rusty orange. The lights clustered together into a near haze that resembled clouds, or maybe celestial ghosts. Not that Felix believed in ghosts. “Didn’t realize you were the type to like stargazing,” Bernadetta commented, her body swaying slightly as she continued to crane her neck up into the infinite.

“It’s a good, quiet nighttime activity,” he said. “Emphasis on the quiet.” There was a stretch of silence, as though Bernadetta was making a point of respecting his preference. "When I was growing up and couldn't sleep, I'd tire myself out running up here and lay out on the stone, watching the stars go by until I could barely keep my eyes open."

Bernadetta's hand landed on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her. "Did that happen a lot? You being unable to sleep?" Their faces drifted close, her warm breath keeping him from getting too lost in ancient memories.

"Certain periods were more restless than others, yes," he replied. They were much rarer now; instead, these days he often had to battle the burden of slumber in favor of work or, in this case, enjoying a serene moment.

“It’s too bad we can’t see the Blue Sea Star,” Bernadetta sighed, noting the absence of the luminous turquoise body that hugged the horizon for half the year. “Oh, but there’s the Bull of Aegir,” she cooed excitedly, eyes back on the view. Felix followed her pointing finger to a formation he knew well, though the name Bernadetta used was unfamiliar.

“The what?” he asked, mentally drawing out the sharp outline of horns in the sky.

“An old Adrestian legend that predates the founding of the empire,” Bernadetta began, her voice rising energetically. “A prince of the Aegir family — like most of the imperial noble houses, they were around long before Seiros alighted — supposedly fell in love with a woman named Europa. But her father disapproved of the match, and she wanted to respect the man's wishes. The prince, not one to be so easily discouraged, showered Europa with gifts, the grandest of which was a great white bull he claimed could swim faster than any ship. Europa, wanting to test this bold assertion, insisted on riding the bull out into the waves along with the prince.”

Felix looked at her with a smile. “Sounds pretty ridiculous.”

She shot him a playful look. “Of course you would think so,” she commented softly. Then she resumed her tale with renewed enthusiasm. “But moving on… Europa and the prince rode the bull across the sea, and sure enough his words rang true. They landed on an island off the western coast and, finding the earth plentiful, decided to elope and begin a family there.”

“And the bull?” he asked, not-so-reluctantly invested.

Her face fell. “Alas, though the bull had performed such an amazing feat, it died of exhaustion shortly after arriving. But Europa and her now-husband made sure to commemorate it,” she explained. “Around its tomb they built a great shrine. And the goddess herself, witnessing the bull’s tenacity and the newlyweds’ immense gratitude, gave it a place in the night sky,” she concluded dreamily. “Their descendants are still there, and each spring they place offerings to the bull to commemorate the season.”

It was a nice ending, if not a bit sad, but it was nothing compared to some of the fables his brother had told him growing up. “Fascinating,” he said. “But that’s not the story I learned.”

“Oh?” Bernadetta tilted her head curiously. “What was it, then?”

He took a deep breath, trying to rouse the details from the depths of his memory. “Well, it’s still a bull. But it’s not a love story,” he told her. “It’s an incredibly old legend, from back when Northern Fódlan was still worshipping old gods.” He stopped for a moment, feeling his cheeks redden as Bernadetta watched him attentively. “There was a goddess — not _The_ Goddess — and a hero who she fancied. But he rejected her, and she sent a great beast, the Bull of Heaven, to strike him down. It nearly tore the world apart, but he defeated it.”

Bernadetta’s disappointment at his abrupt conclusion was apparent. “That’s it?”

“Well, it’s one part of a longer epic,” he explained, still striving to keep his words brief. “I’m sure we have a book on it somewhere in the library. You can read it if you’re dying to know the details.” Bernadetta merely continued pouting. “Sorry. You know I’m not that great at telling stories.”

Her expression softened. “I’m impressed enough. I thought you hated Faerghus legends on principle.”

After a moment of thought, he replied: “Only the ones about knights and their pretty ideals. This one is much older, predating the Kingdom’s bizarre fascination with chivalry.” It focused more on action, on great fights and the striking down of arrogant gods. Felix found it to be much more true to life.

But Bernadetta was still visibly puzzled. “You say it’s ancient, yet I’ve never heard it,” she said. “To think there’d be such differing accounts of the stars, even on the same continent.”

“Maybe now that we’re unified, we can compare all the different myths. It would be pretty interesting,” Felix mused, admiring the way Bernadetta’s nose scrunched in contemplation. “You could be the one to compile them all.”

She laughed nervously. “Oh, I don’t know. It would require a lot of research, maybe a bit of field work to gather up all the lesser-known stories…”

“Sounds like a great way to get you out of your room,” Felix quipped back.

“You are really not letting up tonight, are you?” she asked, giving his arm a light-hearted smack. Felix only fixed her with a smirk and a stare. “I mean…” She escaped his smolder in favor of another glimpse at the night sky, wrapping an arm around his back and circling her hand over another cluster of stars. “What about that constellation? Maybe you can give me some more inspiration.”

But Felix only gave it a passing glance, exhaling tiredly. “Next time,” he breathed, turning back to her with half-lidded eyes.

“Felix!”

There was another pout on her face, but her hand still slipped easily into his as he stepped away from the railing and back toward the spiraling stairway, no doubt weighing the warmth of returning inside over satisfying her sudden hunger for knowledge. Perhaps that burning curiosity could keep her from freezing over, too.

He fought through the threatening haze of sleep as they descended the tower, wove through the darkened corridors and eventually slipped back into their bedroom, where the cooling embers simmering in the fireplace cast flickering shadows over the rug and furniture. “Sweet indoors,” Bernadetta sighed in relief as Felix stoked the flames, silently grateful for the opportunity to shed his layers once again. He peered into the glowing light as Bernadetta shuffled around behind him. “I’m so glad to have you home, you know,” she called, casually, as if the thought had flitted quickly through her mind.

“And I’m glad to be back,” Felix replied, staring dazed and ahead. For whatever reason, the last throes of his conscious contemplations were business-related. Yes, he was returned, but he was due to set off again in a week. Their storytelling under the stars was only a brief distraction from the fact that his work never stopped. Nerves stirred in his stomach at the thought of Bernadetta alone. He should tell her about the plan. Right now, maybe, before—

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded from behind him, sleepy but with a hint of wanting. Felix turned around and Bernadetta was standing in her light wool slip, braving the cold to give him a look at her muscled arms and toned legs, still stubbornly refusing to turn soft in spite of her increasing lethargy. “Need some help with that?” she asked, stepping forward to unlace his shirt, her voice smooth and unwavering as her fingertips tickled his chest through the fabric. Felix couldn’t remember when she’d gotten so good at being so effortlessly cute. And so skilled at taking his mind away from what was troubling him. It was what motivated him to go so far to ease her own pains.

His hands closed around hers, stilling her work for a moment so he could look at her wordlessly. He crept his palms down her forearms, feeling her body soften as she wrapped around his waist and melted into him, her head resting against his collarbone. After a moment of swaying before the flames, Bernadetta tilted her chin up to search his eyes, smiling as she popped up to take his lips in hers and holding there, their hands roaming quicker and quicker over each other. Felix hummed happily, the comfort of being home finally sinking in.

Maybe he would tell her tomorrow.

—

The next week passed far too quickly before Felix was on the road again, gone for the better part of a moon. But when he was standing in the castle halls again, with Bernadetta running exuberantly down the curving stairs and throwing herself into his arms, it was like he had never left. "You made it back for dinner, this time," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I had the chefs prepare all your favorites, considering what day it is."

Felix shook his head as they parted. "Wait, what day is it?" Work had taken him all the way to Garreg Mach, and he'd been riding half a week; on such long journeys he was prone to losing track of the calendar.

"No need to be coy," Bernadetta chided. Then, to his surprise, she rose to kiss him, as bold and sudden as the night in front of the fireplace; except that the staff were watching, and for once Felix's shyness outshone hers. He glanced away with an embarrassed smile as Bernadetta's voice bubbled joyously. "Happy birthday," she said, tucking his disheveled hair behind his ear. "Do you want your present now or later?"

He eyed her incredulously as they made their way out of the foyer. His voice was low with a hint of teasing. "Bernadetta…"

Her face twisted and there was the flustered apprehension he was used to. "Oh my goodness, not _that_ kind of—"

"Later," he decided, stepping through the carved wood of the dining room. And it was just as well, because when he saw the arrangement of food laid out on the table his mind was cleared of everything else.

Bernadetta was the first to rise after the meal wound down, her eyes determined and set on him. "How about a walk?" she suggested. Felix agreed silently and easily, curious to see what plans his wife had hatched in his absence. There was an impressive energy and a bounce in her step that had seemingly sprung up like an early bloom. They made their way to the courtyard, shivering in the night air. Glowering moonlight shone down through the square patch of sky hovering beyond the tall castle walls.

"Have you been doing this while I was away?" he asked. "Leaving your room? Actually going outside?"

She shrugged. "Maybe a little."

A shiver was running down his spine, too. "I appreciate the effort, but you don't have to prove yourself by willingly subjecting yourself to winter," he said. "It's really damn cold," he added with a chuckle that was visible in the air.

"I appreciate you acknowledging that," Bernadetta teased, tugging his arm as they stepped out into the center of the clearing, her eyes flitting upward. It was nowhere near as clear as the last time they'd stargazed together, but The Bull was prominent enough for them to admire, at least. "Here," she muttered, pulling a small, soft wrapped package from her cloak. "Like I was saying, it's not that kind of gift," she said, pushing it into his hands. "Go ahead and open it." Her voice was getting softer and softer, her nerves apparent.

Felix accepted it with modest words of thanks, pulling the strings delicately. The paper fell away and revealed a soft linen handkerchief, bright against his dark coat. Stitched carefully in navy blue thread was the wobbly silhouette of mountains, the elegant curve of a moon and small bundles of knots to represent stars. They were scattered across the white cloth, and set beside each other were two separate formations connected by thin lines. Constellations, he assumed, though neither were visible in the sky at the moment. He ran his fingers over the meticulous handiwork. "You made this?"

"They're our star signs," Bernadetta explained with a nod, pointing to each cluster of lines and dots. "Sagittarius and Pisces." Felix watched silently, catching a glimpse of her reddened cheeks. "I know you probably would have preferred a sword or something, but—"

"No, I love it," he insisted, taking hold of her wrist instinctively. "I'll keep it with me when I'm on the road," he added, wrapping it back into the thick paper and slipping it into his pocket. "I'm just glad you were able to put passion into something, even when it's so gloomy out."

Bernadetta tugged his ear playfully. "This will sound ironic, but you worry about me too much," she said. "I have plenty to keep me busy. I had to look those constellations up in a book, for one, since they won't be visible again for another few moons at least…"

"We'll need to commit to more stargazing and stories until we can see them, then," Felix replied, planting a warm kiss on her forehead.

She nodded decisively. "Sounds like a plan." Her eyes veered skyward again, hands slipping into his. A breeze fluttered their clothes and hair and Felix had to stifle a laugh when Bernadetta's shudder rippled down her arm and buzzed against his grip.

"Maybe we should go south next winter," he suggested.

Her response was instantaneous and relieved. "Yes. I think I would love that."


End file.
